


Fleeting Moments

by Iwalkalone258



Category: The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: 100 word prompt that turned into, AU, F/M, Royalty, alternative universe, non Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-28 20:28:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18763636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iwalkalone258/pseuds/Iwalkalone258
Summary: Fleeting moments race through her mind. She sees his eyes brighten with laughter, feels the warmth of his embrace, hears the low timber of his voice as he speaks. Everything comes rushing back and suddenly she feels like crying.  [Written for the Westallen 100 Word Prompt: “You aren’t who I thought you were”





	Fleeting Moments

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiii everyone, I'm not dead, I'm alive! Here's a quick drabble of an idea I've had for a while! Tell me if you like it! I hope you guys like it!!!

She’s wringing her hands in nervousness and all while wearing a hole in the carpeted ground. There's a type of nervous energy bouncing off her person in waves.

She's nervous - no scratch that - anxious about seeing him. He's different and it dawns on her that they'll never be the same again. She knows now. Knows his true identity and the barriers that lie between them.

Because in reality, they can never be together. 

"Iris?"

A squeak lets loose from her red painted lips as she pivots to face the intruder in surprise. Her heart races tenfold at the sight of him and she forgets for a spilt second what she's actually doing there.

Fleeting moments race through her mind. She sees his eyes brighten with laughter, feels the warmth of his embrace, hears the low timber of his voice as he speaks. Everything comes rushing back and suddenly she feels like crying.

It takes a second of concentration at the task at hand and a quick clench of teeth to reel herself back in.

She can cry later. Right now, she needs to put on her big girl panties. She needs to confront him.

"You scared me," she mumbles pressing a palm to the base of her throat.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to." He steps into the room and closes the door behind him. The soft click of the lock making this moment surreal. "What are you doing here? Is everything okay?"

He's still in his blue scrubs, and though she's used to seeing him dawn this particular attire, she realizes this might be the last time. Shaking her head back and forth, she inhales a gallop of air. This is it. This is the end.

"I-" but the words don't get a chance to escape because suddenly an overwhelming emotion strangles her consciousness. She's across the room in seconds flat pressing her lips to his in a kiss. It's soft, sweet, nothing but the love she feels in her chest and yet, yet, she knows this will be the last kiss they ever share.

"Iris," he whispers once she's back on the soles of her feet with her nose brushing his. Barry's fingers are tangled in her curls as his eyes remain closed. She uses this opportunity to scan his features and memorize every single crease.

God, he's beautiful.

Clearing her throat, she steps away from him unwillingly, her arms falling back to her sides.

"You aren't who I thought you were," she states lowly willing her voice to steady and her eyes to stare into his. A flash of confusion spirals across his face and he reaches a hand out for hers but she takes a step back.

She can't handle his touch right now. She knows that if he touches her again this entire conversation will be over before it begins.

"What are you talking about?" he asks with a frown.

Instead of answering right away, Iris fishes out her phone and unlocks it. There's an article, an article with a picture of the man she loves standing with his arms around a woman she's never even heard of on her screen with a caption of royal weddings.

Tears sparkle in her eyes as she holds the phone out to show him with a shaky fist. There's a crumbling, a sort of collapse of her chest and all she wants to do is sob, scream, fight for what's hers because he's hers, isn't he?

"This is what I'm talking about."

She doesn't dare glance away as he looks at her phone, doesn't dare move an inch. She wants to remember this moment, remember the man who she gave her very heart to, the man who lied to her face for months.

There's a second where realization dawns in his expressive green eyes before transitioning to a look of pleading.

"Iris, please. I wanted to tell you. I tried to tell you," there's a kind of desperation in his tone and he's walking closer, coming closer but she holds up a hand and shakes her head for him to stop.

She can't handle him any closer. She's too fragile, too broken. This is too much.

"No. No, I don't believe you," her voice is small because she feels small. This hurts, it hurts to speak, to look at him, to even stand in this one spot and listen to him. It all hurts.

"Iris, please listen to me. It's not what it seems. My family-" his accent is thicker, but she shakes her head to interrupt him. No, she says silently, before she's pushing by him to the door abruptly.

"No." she whispers as races out of the room with wet cheeks and shaky fists.


End file.
